History Repeating
by Kleio the Muse
Summary: Severus finds himself reliving the worst moment of his life. Most willingly. SSSB, takes place partly after OotP, partly during GoF.


  
It still seems wrong, somehow, to come here. The stone walls certainly mind not one whit, and the last residents of the house have long since departed from this world. Undoubtedly Muggles; not a spot of magic in this god-forsaken place. The roof is but a memory and only the stone walls remain of what once must have been a handsome place of abode. Good, solid stone, nothing like the card-houses Muggles tend to cough up these days.

Leaping over a pile of rubble, Severus steps to what only the few shards of glass distinguish from a mere hole in the wall. The window provides him a nice view of the region around the ruins. In the light of the moon he sees Hogwarts castle, looming majestically over the lake, only a few lights burning in the windows. A little to the right there is more light, the village of Hogsmeade, which, unlike the school, is not deserted for the summer months.

And down there, about half-way between the village and the ruins, in the mountainside, is the cave.

If only it had not been for that half-witted creature, protecting Black like a blasted watchdog, thinking Severus came there that night to harm its precious master!

Then again, even animals have their moments of clarity.

It has been a little over a year, yet it feels so much less. Following Potter and his friends to the cave was simple enough, waiting for them to leave and Black to return quite a thrill, and picturing the look on Black's face when Severus would apprehend him immensely satisfying. This time he was wise enough not to attack Black while those unruly brats were with him; this time he did everything just as he had dreamt many times before.

He should have known dreams aren't meant to come true.

Severus had already smelled the sweet scent of revenge when that accursed animal jumped at him and destroyed what might have become the greatest moment of his life. Parts were quickly changed, the hunter becoming the one pointed at with his own wand.

Even now Severus finds his body shivering at the memory of that night. The wand comes out of his pocket instinctively, and with a shaking hand, he holds it out, points it into the warm summer night. He should have ended it right there, in that cave, but that bastard Black had known him better than he would have wanted.

Where the devil is he? The night is already old, but there is still no sign of the one Severus is waiting for.

Putting the wand back inside his robes, he walks across the room, stopping only when reaching the opposite wall. _That_ wall. He puts his hand against the stone, runs his fingers over the cracks and bit of moss, studying the uneven surface carefully. It is not as cold now; it was spring then.

Once again, he gets the same odd feeling that he always gets when faced with something very old. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of hands must have touched it before him and so many would touch it after him. So many people have passed through this house, lived their short lives within these stone walls, and this is all that is left of them.

Severus closes his eyes and instantly bits of history begin flashing before him: men toasting to the health of kings who all have died; wives nagging at husbands over things no one remembers any more; master after master chasing maid after maid; men fighting over land that would never belong to them; women screaming in labour and in mourning; laughing, crying, shagging, dying.

His heart is suddenly beating faster, cold shivers turning into warm waves that all seem to be heading to the same place. He leans closer, presses his forehead against the stone, and for a brief moment he can smell Black.

"Mind telling me why I'm here, of all places?"

He had never been to the ruins before, although he had seen them often enough, standing there on top of the hill. As he leant against the stone wall to catch his breath, he still found it hard to believe he had actually agreed to follow Black there. It had been a long and tiring hike, first down the mountain, then up the hill. Black hadn't said a word since they had left the cave, but Severus could see that he was thinking, trying very hard to come up with some ingenious plan to get himself off the hook once more.

"I thought you and Buckbeak needed some space between you two," Black said, striding across the ruins towards the back of the house. "This seemed as good a place as any to do some bargaining."

Severus let out a laugh which he hoped sounded disdainful enough.

"Either tell me the _real_ reason you forced me here or accept another murder on your conscience."

There was a nasty grin on Black's face as he turned around, pointing at Severus with his own wand.

"You're never going to trust me, are you, Snape?"

"I fail to see any reason to do so."

"Not even after finding old Peter Pettigrew very much alive."

"It will take more than one scabby rat for me to reform my opinion of you."

Black raised his hands as a sign of surrender, but the grin still danced on his lips.

"All right then, I want to make a deal with you. You sneak back into the castle and keep your gob shut about ever seeing so much as a glimpse of me. In return..."

Severus watched him slip the wand inside his robes, safe in the knowledge that it wouldn't stay there for long.

"Oh, do tell me. I cannot wait to hear the rest of your insanity. I find it rather amusing."

Without answering, Black took a few steps back and leant against the stone wall behind him. Then, to Severus' utter amazement, he took a firm hold of his collar and with one quick pull ripped open the front of his robes. The tattered fabric offered no resistance, and Severus found himself staring at Black's pale and heaving chest.

"What the devil do you think you're doing?" he gasped, unable to turn his eyes away from the man shredding his clothes right in front of him.

Black merely smiled, his hands still gripping the torn neckline of his robes.

"I don't exactly have anything but rats to give you - being a fugitive, travelling light and all - so in return for your discretion..." He gave the robes one more pull and yanked them down over his shoulders. "...I offer you myself."

There was nothing in the man's face to suggest that he was jesting, and yet he simply had to be. Severus had heard the little chat Black had had with Potter and those other nuisances. He knew Black wasn't at all convinced of his loyalty to Dumbledore and was painfully aware of how much Black despised him. Yet here he was, standing half-naked in front of him, only a rugged grey cloth covering him from the waist down, 'offering himself' to him.

Severus opened his mouth to speak but none of the words he was thinking of came even close to what he wanted to say. There simply were no words that could convey how little he believed in anything that came out of Black's mouth. In the end, all he managed to produce was something like a snort of contempt which, however, came out more like a sneeze.

"Oh, come now, Snape. We both know you need it. Nothing looses a tight-arse such as yourself like a good hard shag."

"For your information, I would rather have sex with, with..." A number of creatures were rushing through Severus' mind, each more hideous than the last. Finally he blurted out the one he had been thinking of most recently. "A bloody Hippogriff!"

Black shrugged.

"Well, it's your choice, really. I'll just go and check if Buckbeak's up for it..."

He made to leave, but obviously had no intension of actually doing so. Instead, the annoying smirk returned to his face, and he leant against the wall again, hiding his hands behind his back and pushing his hips forward in a manner Severus did not particularly care for at the moment.

"Just think about it, Snape. You could fuck your enemy up the arse. There's no violation greater than that."

"Do you seriously expect me to lay even a finger on your revolting body? Honestly, Black, you must have had just one rat too many."

But Severus' words seemed to have no effect upon Black, who had now tilted his head back and was rubbing himself quite shamelessly against the stone wall. With every move, his robes fell a little bit lower, revealing a little bit more white skin, making Severus' mind a little bit more confused.

"Stop that!" Severus snapped at him, taking a step forward and holding out his hand. "It's over, Black. If you'll just hand me my wand..."

"Come here and take it. Or are you simply too big a wuss, Snivellus?"

Balling his hands into tight fists, Severus tried his best to calm down before striding over to Black. There was nothing there to upset him, only the bare, pale chest of the man he hated more than life itself. He would simply reach inside the robes, grab his wand, and lead Black straight back to the castle and into the hands of the Ministry. He would be the man of the hour, the capturer of a dangerous criminal, the avenger of all the things ever to have gone wrong in his life.

Severus stopped in front of Black already smiling at himself for job well done.

"Hand it..."

His mouth was just about to form the word 'over' when Black suddenly bent toward him and shoved his mouth against his. It took Severus several moments to realise what was happening and a few more to pull back. Completely stunned, he stared at the panting man, trying to find evidence of madness in his eyes.

"How dare you!" he spat, wiping his mouth feverishly. "You vile, disgusting creature!"

"It is customary to start off with a little bit of snogging, you know."

"I'm not about to start anything!" Severus shouted, still in shock. "I don't... _do_ that sort of thing!"

"Don't give me that," Black snorted. "I bet you haven't ever even been with a bloke. It'll blow your mind, guaranteed. Feels better than any woman you've had before." He paused, then frowned. "You have had a woman, right?"

But no matter how much Severus would have liked to set him straight in great detail, he was unable to do anything but shake. Something was happening to him, something he knew he should stop but, at the same time, knew he could not. His whole body seemed to be in flames, burning his insides, and yet the man on the outside simply could not stop shivering.

Black had resumed his position by the wall, hands tucked behind his back, the dirty robes now hanging well below his waistline. It was obvious he was parading himself in front of Severus, so confident that he would take him up on his sordid little offer. Although he had spent most of his life hating this man, craving for revenge, it was at that moment that Severus hated him more than he could ever have imagined possible. So arrogant, so cocky, and so incredibly arousing.

"Oh, don't tell me the thought hasn't ever crossed your mind. I remember the way you used to look at me, and even though prison tends to leave its mark on a man, I know you still wonder what it would be like just to flip me over and push me down and fuck me till I bleed."

That did it. Severus was not looking for signs of jest in Black's eyes any more, nor was he thinking of his wand and how to retrieve it; the white chest was calling him to touch it, urging him to run the tips of his fingers across it, rising and falling ever more rapidly as he stared at it.

"Go on, do it," Black said, pushing his hips forward again. "Fuck the foe."

In an instant Severus was all over him. He was painfully aware of how clumsy his kisses must be, how hasty his touches on Black's skin, but none of it mattered as he pressed hard against him, capturing the man between him and cold stone wall. Black was his now, he had paid a dear price for his body, and he was determined to take more from him than the Dementors ever could. His teeth sank into Black's neck, and ferociously he sucked him, bit him until he tasted blood.

"Sorry about that, mate!"

Without taking his hand off the stone, Severus turns to the voice.

"You are late."

He can barely make out the dark figure stumbling over the rubble towards him.

"Murder getting here, ain't it?" the man says, pushing his long black hair off his face. "The taxi wouldn't even drive up here, had to walk."

"You have my utmost indifference. Come here."

The man falls over and curses loudly. Again, Severus could not possibly care less.

"Said this place's haunted, all sorts of weird things happening here."

"There will be if you don't move that arse of yours over here this instant."

But the man seems deaf to anything Severus has to say and simply continues with his babbling.

"They were witches, see, the people that lived here. Burnt at the stake, they were, thousands of years ago."

It can hardly have been thousands - Muggles did not think of burning them until as recently as the Middle Ages - but Severus can't be bothered to correct him. What he finds interesting, however, is the thought of the residents of this house, living entirely surrounded by magic, most likely having to deal with inexplicable phenomena to their inferior wits' end, and yet they are the ones Muggles end up burning at the stake.

The irony of this world never ceases to amuse Severus. But the moment quickly passes.

"Trousers down, bottom up," he says curtly. "I'm not paying you for the gossip."

"Speaking of money," the man says a bit awkwardly, finally reaching Severus, "better get that bit over with first, right?"

"Naturally."

As a matter of routine, the wand comes out of his pocket. When he mutters the Memory Charm incantation, Severus almost feels sorry for the git, but he has yet to pay for the services he uses. The mere thought of Muggle money is enough to make him nauseous.

For a moment, a vacant expression comes over the young man's face. Too young, once again, but mature whores are a rare thing to come by. Then he smiles again, confident that the matter of payment has already been taken care of, and leans in for a kiss.

"No! No kissing. You disgust me."

Even in the faint light of the rising moon, Severus could see Black's eyes flash with anger.

"Hey, _you_ were the one trying to suck my bloody tongue out!" Black snarled, rubbing his mouth. "I see it's been a while for you."

Again Severus found himself hating Black most strongly, and again his body reacted most peculiarly.

It was the pout that had grown on his lips, the fire burning in his eyes, the white chest rising even faster. The world around him fell into darkness as Severus forced his mouth onto Black's again. His tongue pushed easily inside; there were no pursed lips, no clenched teeth to stop him. And as Severus pressed against him, he could feel Black's hands moving down the back of his robes, pulling them hastily up, and finally slipping underneath them.

Only with effort Severus did manage to pull away from him. Casting a quick look around, he discovered the low wall right beside them, apparently the remains of a once grand fireplace. He grabbed Black by the arm and shoved him harshly onto his stomach on the stones. It was perfect, absolutely perfect: Black standing there bent over like that, his arse just waiting for Severus to touch it. With one swift pull he yanked the shabby robes off of him, barely even noticing that his wand wasn't in the pocket any more.

"Easy there, mate. Not doing a thing without a rubber."

"Blast!" Severus curses as he reaches for his wand again.

Damned Muggles and their diseases. He knows from experience that it is an utter waste of time trying to explain to them that their illnesses do not concern him, that there are no such things in the Wizarding World. Instead he resigns to modify the man's memory once more, convincing him that said device is safely in place.

"_Obliviate_."

Still holding the wand, he lets his hand travel down the tanned back and over the buttocks. They should be paler, white as new snow. He squeezes the cheek, making the man let out a paid moan. Then he slaps the bottom, hard, and now the scream has a tint of surprise, of honesty.

It is only now that Severus takes off his robes; he never lets the whores see him. The cool night air brushes over his skin, his nipples hardening by its touch. Stroking himself he pushes his flesh between the man's buttocks, raising another fake moan from him.

"Lube?" he mutters, rubbing his arse against Severus.

In all honesty, he would rather not, but the wand is still in his hand, ready for use. And it does render the act more similitude.

"_Lubrificio_."

Black reached back and placed the wand in his own crack, the transparent liquid dripping down it onto Severus' hardened organ. It felt cool and slippery in his hand as he spread it over his erection, his heart racing with anticipation.

"Go on," he heard Black mumble breathlessly. "Fuck me."

Severus dipped his finger in the lubricant, pulled Black's buttocks apart and began probing for his hole. Twice his finger slid up and down the crack before he found it, the soft spot that gave in when he pressed it. He let his finger dig into it, forcing it deeper and deeper, and hearing Black moan under him.

"None of that. Just you."

The note of desperation in Black's voice made Severus pull his finger out with a hurry. There was no going back now, no room for doubt any more. He grabbed his prick and, new to it as he was, pushed himself inside Black with as much force as possible, fearing it wouldn't go in otherwise.

He was startled by the cry of pain that echoed from the walls of the ruins, at the same time making him want to pull back and fear to move a muscle. From what he could see, the expression on Black's face was one of surprise and agony, neither of which seemed to fit the situation. After all, it had been him who had suggested that Severus should do this in the first place.

All Severus could do was watch him as he lay there on the rugged stone wall, his fingers wrapped around its edge, his heavy breathing blowing the dust off its surface.

"What are you waiting for? Fuck me."

"Black..."

"Do it, you bloody wanker!"

Without another word, Severus shoved himself deeper into the groaning man, then again, and again. The sensation was almost too much for him to grasp. The sharp waves of pleasure made his entire body shiver, his mouth gasping for air he couldn't imagine needing any more.

"Yeah, give it to me, mate... That's right... Feels so fucking good..."

Swiftly Severus bends lower, reaches out his hand and presses it tightly over the man's mouth.

"Shut up," he hisses, his grip tightening and his thrusts hardening. "Not another word out of you, you damn whore!"

That's what he is, nothing but a sordid little whore. They will do anything for money, it is all in the name of business, they do not really care, and neither does Severus. He bangs his hips against the arse faster and faster, fully aware of the stone under him and entirely oblivious to the damage it's doing. Let it bruise him, let it bleed him, let it hurt him; he doesn't matter.

Severus can already feel his end approaching, it never takes him long to come, not with Black in his head. Desperately he tries to hold it, to slow it down, but the darkness has already started to fall over him, the last of the ruins tumble down, and his flesh melts into the body under him. He can hear himself repeating those words, always those same words, breathing them in rhythm with his thrusts.

"You... bastard... you... utter... bastard..."

Severus screamed like an animal as he came inside Black. Panting heavily, he fell limp on top of him, unable to believe that he was still alive after the sky had fallen down on them.

In the next instant, however, the world was back again and the pleasure was gone. Quickly he pulled out of Black, put on his robes and began straightening them rather frantically. His legs felt about to give in, but that was nothing compared to the growing feeling of shame that had taken over his mind. He wouldn't have wanted to look at Black, would have been quite happy never to see him ever again, yet his head turned inevitably to the naked man, who was now pushing himself up from the stone.

As Black turned to face him, there was nothing in his eyes Severus had expected to find: not anger, not disgust, not even contempt. Instead Black looked at him open-mouthed, eyes wide with surprise and apparently as confused about what he was feeling as Severus was.

"All done, mate?"

The voice is muffled and clearly relieved.

"Yes." Severus pulls his hand off the man's mouth and his prick out of him. "You may go."

The trousers go up as fast as only one who does it for a living would manage it. He winces a little when pulling the shirt over his chest, but says nothing of the scratches; another sign of a true professional.

"If you ever want to repeat this, you be sure to ask for me, right? My name's..."

"I'm hardly interested in what you're called, you whore. Leave."

Shrugging, the man turns on his heels and walks away. After a moment, only the faint light of his cigarette is visible in the night.

For a long while, Severus just stands there, looking after him, feeling somewhat regretful. He knows he won't be able to use that agency any more, not after yet another one of their number returns without the money, certain he was paid but unable to explain how he lost it. No, three is the charm, and that means Severus must trawl through the streets next time, no matter how much he despises that tiresome chore.

He steps to the wall again, presses his cheek against the stone, breathing in the scent he imagines to linger there still. The stone smells of Black, of sex, and of humiliation.

"Snape?"

The voice was questioning, baffled. Black bent his head slowly, his eyes shifting from Severus to himself. There was nothing Severus could do but to follow his lead and let his gaze move down the scratched chest, over the red lines of blood running down into the black hair of his groin, in the middle of which... Severus glanced immediately at Black's face again, the expression of it now rather easier to identify.

The mere thought of Black being aroused by what had happened and clearly lusting for more had barely reached Severus' brain when he already surged forwards, wrapped his arms around Black's body and pressed his lips over the still helplessly gasping mouth. The reception was eager enough; Black grabbed his hair, bit his lip, groped his behind, and rubbed his erection against him with vigour that left no room for doubt.

Before he could realise it, Severus was down on his knees. He didn't know what it was he was supposed to do, only that there was nothing that could have made him pull back from it. The swollen organ brushed against his cheek once, twice, touching his lips only in passing. At that moment it all became clear to him: he wanted to kiss that piece of flesh in front of him, he wanted to lick it, taste it, suck it and swallow it whole. With a smile on his lips, Severus took Black into his mouth.

"Black, you bastard!"

The shout echoes from the walls over and over again. Severus can feel the stone getting wet under his cheek and tries to step back, but only finds himself down on his knees again, just like on that night. He hits the stone with his fist, again and again, but the pain doesn't make it hurt any less.

If only he had just walked away, he wouldn't be forced to live with this weight of humiliation on his shoulders. Yet he knows it would have been impossible, he would never have been able to leave Black in that state. He can shag whore after another and send them away empty-handed, but that will never change the fact that if it truly was Black, he would do exactly the same as before, he would suck him off all over again.

Taking a deep breath, Severus leans against the wall and wraps the hem of his robes around his bleeding hand. It terrifies him to think that Black still holds such power over him. He knows he must escape, must do something to make himself forget, and yet all his attempts only make Black more real to him.

"What are you still doing here? Go."

Severus stared at the stone wall in front of him, waiting impatiently for Black to leave so that he could begin banging his head against it. He heard the man move behind him, heard him mutter "_Reparo_" to mend his torn robes. All he wanted to do was to turn around and spit in his face, to free himself of the bitter taste in his mouth, but instead he found himself swallowing down the last traces of Black.

Then the footsteps moved closer, the rubble rustling right behind Severus' back. Instinctively he wrapped his robes tighter around himself, as if the man could see his nakedness even through the black cloth.

"Does that mean you're going to keep your side of the bargain, despite..." Black's voice was soft, and even without turning to face him, Severus could hear the grin on his lips. "Despite what happened?"

"Believe me, I have no intention of repeating this to anyone. As far as I'm concerned, you were never here and nothing happened. Now, sod off."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

He sensed Black's presence, felt him standing there, waiting for him to turn around He was startled when Black's hand suddenly brushed against his shoulder, but even more so when he felt his wand being pressed against his cheek.

"Oh, I see. That wasn't enough for you, Black, was it? Of course, it would've been far too simple for you to tamper with my memory _before_ this charade."

"A wizard like yourself, fooled by a mere Memory Charm? I doubt it." Black leant closer to his back, his mouth nearly touching Severus' ear, and whispered, "And don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

"I assure you, it was nothing to write home about."

"Well, the good people of Hogsmeade certainly don't need it in writing. I bet they'll be telling the tale of the orgasmically wailing ghost for quite some time."

"You must mean my cry of utter repulsion."

"Of course. And that was me, expressing my hatred for you by coming in your mouth just now."

The way Black whispered those last words made Severus' skin crawl.

"Do it!" he hissed between his clenched teeth. "Cast the spell and erase that humiliation from my memory!"

The wand moved away from his cheek, and Severus closed his eyes, expecting to hear the Memory Charm any moment now. But before he realised it, Black spun him around and looked him straight in the eye, that annoying grin still twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"No, Snape. There are certain things that deserve to be remembered."

The mouth covered his, the wand dropped to the ground, the world blackened in Severus' eyes, and in the next instant Black was already walking away from him.

"You arrogant bastard!" Severus shouted after him. "Do you honestly think I'll spend the remainder of my days reliving this-this horrendous night? I never agreed to any of this and I certainly do not want to _remember_ any of this! Do you hear me, you egotistical coward!"

Severus picked up his wand and pointed it into the darkness Black had disappeared into. He could have gone after him, could have made him suffer, could have had his revenge, could have had him.

"You utter bastard," he mutters to himself.

The lowest point of his life, the absolute bottom, and yet no matter how hard he tries, how many times he plays it differently, he cannot change it. It almost feels as if Black cast some spell on that night, preserving it, preventing it from ever being forgotten. In fact, Severus is certain an element of magic is involved, it has to be. Why else would he come here, to the ruins of some accursed Muggle house, and relive those moments over and over again? Why would any sane person want to dwell in their humiliation like this? And how else would it be possible to fail repeatedly when trying to correct one simple mistake? It can only be magic, and Severus knows there is nothing he can do to break the spell.

The moon comes out of the clouds, shedding its silver light over the ruins. Severus takes a deep breath, enjoys the coolness of the night air as it surges through his body. The world is silent, time stands still, the stones are dead around him. So much blood has been spilled within these walls, so much semen cast into women, men. All that is gone now, yet something remains. And when he closes his eyes, he can still taste Black.

The End. 


End file.
